The Cold Moment
by Glyphron
Summary: After a long day, an accident in the Chantry places Hawke and her companions in a race against time. One that may cost someone their life.
1. Chapter 1

Sebastian slid an arrow from his quiver, silently bringing it to his longbow. Cloaked in shadow and unmoving, save for the retrieval of his lethal projectile, he knew they would never see him. His majestic blue eyes glowered under the furrow of his brow. He pulled back the string of his bow tight and waited with soft breath, his blood burning in his arms and chest. These maleficarum would not even have the chance to scream before they fell.

He never questioned why there were only two of them, never considered getting them caught rather than bringing them death. His heart was set on protecting Grand Cleric Elthina alone, no matter the price it would cost. Perhaps Elthina would be angry, perhaps she would punish him for his actions, or possibly discharge him even. But, she would be alive and his self proclaimed duty fulfilled. Sebastian deeply felt this was the best thing to do, the right thing.

He let the footfalls draw closer through the entrance hall, tracing their silhouettes. They failed to be very stealthy, though covered in darkness making it impossible to distinguish their features, each step screamed of their presence. If it had been pitch black in the Chantry, he could still accurately aim a shot at them just by listening. He thought it funny the Bloodragers would send such sloppy and incapable assassins, did they think no one would be here to protect the Grand Cleric? Their delusions would cost them their lives.

Finally, as the first of the two was about to cross the threshold of the main room into the moonlight streaming through the high set windows, he loosed his wrath...

Earlier

Scorching Lowtown's streets from above, the sun beamed mercilessiy overhead. It was early afternoon, and even the shadows clung tight to the edges of buildings to escape the heat. Pace slow and exasperated, Hawke led her friends deeper into the busy streets towards the slums district.

Her boy short white hair was plastered to her scalp, soaked by sweat, her liquid silver eyes blinking back flies attracted to them as they watered; her dusky eyeshadow that blended well into her ghostly tattoo all but gone, washed away by the effects of the summer heatwave. Aveline, following close behind her, boasted beads of sweat but trudged on as though immune to the burning light. Sebastian trodded not far behind Aveline, his white armor gleaming in the sun making it painful to look at him from the reflective intensity. He seemed content enough, but was secretly praying for clouds to lace the sky. Bringing up the rear of the group was Fenris, who always looked unhappy for the most part. He offered no complaints, his skin dry, unlike all the others who were drenched in their own perspiration. An impressive feat considering he was dressed in black.

As if to force their minds from the unbearable discomfort, Aveline offered a a distraction.

"So, Fenris, Donnic seems to have 'misplaced' twenty silvers he was supposed to use to purchase a new set of boots..."

Cautiously he replied, "Your point?..."

"This happening on the same evening he visited you to play some Diamondback seems suspicious."

"Again, I disavow all knowledge of gambling occurring in my home."

Sebastian picked up the topic, taking the opportunity to preach.

"Gambling is a dangerous temptation, it can lead you to dark times. Look at Hawke's uncle, whome we are going to see. He has lost so much, all he gains is taken from him to settle debts acquired through his addiction. He struggles to take care of his most basic needs."

Shooting him a glare, Fenris scoffed, "I am nothing like Hawke's uncle,,,,"

Aveline sighed, "Maybe you don't have much to lose. You don't have to pay rent, or constantly repair armor and replace equipment. But as members of the guard, both me and Donnic do. If his coin keeps getting lost, there may be an end to your coveted man time."

"What is it you want me to do? Purposely lose? If he cannot afford to bet what he does, than maybe he should not offer it up."

Placing a fist on her hip, cheeks reddening as they always do when flustered, Aveline began in a very serious tone, "He is usually a very responsible man, it is hard to imagine him being so careless without being subjected to pressure-"

Interjecting, Sebastian came to Fenris's defense, "He has a point Lady Aveline. Perhaps you should be discussing this with Donnic as well, as he also claims part in this. It... Takes two to bet."

She nearly stopped in her tracks and turned to him, preparing to unleash a good scolding, but Allora cut in.

"Let's not waste energy fighting with one another in this heat. Besides, we are coming upon Gamlen's house now."

Much preferring the chill of winter, Allora had little patience to deal with the usual confrontations between her various companions. No matter who's aid she requested with any given job, there was always a touch of friction. Normally, she would let it work itself out, offering little interference. But, today was a special exception as she barely had the energy to walk through the streets. Silently, she thanked the Maker Anders was not here. The arguments between him and Fenris were the worst, both men akin to polar opposites.

Aveline, had backed down, the blush of frustration still evident on her face, but she remained silent. Sebastian looked to Hawke with sympathy towards her unintentional irritability. The brooding expression Fenris always wore had softened with a hint of satisfaction that the conversation had been dropped. All three followed up the stone steps in silence behind Allora, hoping their visit would not be long.

Hawke knocked carefully on the deteriorating wooden slab of a door. Gamlen answered her call relatively quickly, his facial features much gentler at the sight of his niece than they used to be. They were also older, more greyed than before.

"Ah," he expressed relief, "you received my letter."

His arms stretched out towards her, and she graciously accepted their embrace.

"It is good to see you are doing well, my dear." he said into her shoulder before releasing her from his grip.

He turned and offered each accompanying companion his hand, getting a firm shake from Aveline, a gentle one from Sebastian, and only a respectful nod from Fenris. Then he made his way over to the fire, pulling a chair over to them, and retrieving another from the bedroom.

"Please, make yourselves at home,"

Allora Hawke eagerly sank into a chair, thrilled to be off her feet. Fenris propped himself against the wall, one leg bracing him up, the other bending to press his foot against the wood behind him. Promptly, he began fidgeting with the the red cloth tied to his wrist, ensuring the knot had not come loose. sebastian stepped over to lean against the edge of a table, his shining blue eyes attentive to the others. Aveline merely stood straight and regal behind the occupied chair, fixating her gaze on nothing in particular.

When he saw that everyone was settled, he explained why he had requested a visit. Apologizing for all his mistakes, he attempted to close the gap between himself and Allora. They spoke about her mother, everyone's expressions taking on a grave demeanor in remembrance. They talked about the ebb and flow of their lives the past few years. For a while, they merely talked like family. No one offered protest to the hours slipping by despite their hopes, Hawke deserved this.

At long last, she pulled herself from the chair to her feet, signalling the conversation was drawing to a close.

"I imagine you have things to do. You were always a busy woman, always working hard. But, if I may..."

Eyes locked on his in curiosity she waited for him to continue.

"I know your mother was concerned about giving you a proper life. She was searching for suitable bachelors for you to meet."

Fenris stiffened, focusing his leaf green eyes more intensely on the floor. Aveline did not notice this, but she knew this was a sensitive subject and shifted slightly.

"Yes... Mother wanted to see me get married..." Allora's voice was quiet.

"I cant help thinking she was right to do so," Gamlen continued, "You are young and in your prime beauty. I know it is not my place to tell you how to live, but... Perhaps you should think on it. With Bethany in the Circle, you are the only real family I have left. For a long time, I thought the Amell line would end at me, but, I'm glad you've pulled our family heritage out of the grave."

"Uncle..."

"We both know that it is too late for me. There's not much point in me looking for romance at this age and... in my current predicament."

With a sigh his gaze dropped to the floor.

"But, you my dear, you can continue the bloodline. I don't know if there is anyone in your life right now... You know what I mean. But, you deserve to be happy. Don't hesitate to take a chance on love. Leandra found it, I'm sure you will to."

With a softly sad smile, she stepped forward and hugged her uncle.

"I will think on it." she assured him,

"Take care, my dear."

As they all stepped out into the evening air, Fenris tried hard to force the thoughts and memories from his mind. Now was not the time. He would entertain them later, when he was alone. Aveline and Sebastian were already refocused.

"Where are we headed to now?" Aveline looked to Hawke.

"I have been asked to dispose of some raiders along the Wounded Coast. So far they are not a major threat and have only managed petty thievery. According to my information, however, their numbers are growing."

"Why hasn't anyone alerted my Guardsmen?"

Allora laughed a little, "Why do you think I asked you to come along?"

"Hmph..."

"I shall pray to the Maker for guidance and protection." Sebastian offered in high spirits.

"You do that." Fenris retorted as they all approached the city gates.

"Would you like to join me in prayer?" He asked the elf with unfaltering patience.

"No..."

Shooting a quick glance in their direction, Hawke warned Fenris, "He's never going to give up on you."

"So it seems," he grunted "But, I shall not relent either."

Reaching for his bow, the Chantry Brother smirked. "Neither will the Maker."

With a sigh, Aveline stated, "Some things will never change."

As the air was cooling under the waning sun, rather than react as before, Allora actually found a touch of humor in this. She stifled a laugh. Perhaps it was for the best that things remained the way they were. What was left of her family had managed to keep safe, and she had all the companionship she could ever desire. Friends she could trust and count on at all hours of every day. Despite the tension between Templar and Mage, peace still held enough to make Kirkwall a decent place to live. Her home, never empty of life, of at least some of her friends lingering within its walls, was a place to be proud of.

Truly, this was a good life. She doubted her sword would ever be idle. There were too many thugs and criminals slinking through the city to ever run out of work. No matter how many were dealt with, more always came in droves to replace them. Though, with the Champion stalking the streets, the damage they caused was minimal. There was talk of appointing her Viscount, but, so far, only talk. Hawke was content, even if the summer months were far too hot. It showed, she could not keep from beaming with happiness.

Grass had turned to sand, the sea's waves crashing against the staggered cliffs of the coast. Anticipating the oncoming fight with the raiders taking shelter here, one could feel the sudden swell of energy given off by her wayward group. Like they were the harbingers of a thunderstorm, holding back great bolts of lightening until foes forced the storm to give way. What a storm they were, leaving only death in their wake. The first onset of bandits fell quickly, barely a force to be reckoned with.

They charged head on, their leader dropping as an arrow pierced his heart.

"My bow will make short work of them!"

Fenris rushed at them, blade poised for a heavy swing.

"And so it begins."

Allora herself was right on his heels, swinging in between his strokes. She said nothing, only glared each of them down with her sharp, unnatural, colored eyes that could send shivers down even the bravest warrior's spine. Their silver color was near white, rimmed by stone grey, and they shined like the moon in shadowy places.

Aveline held back, ensuring no one got too close to their archer.

A dozen or so sword strikes and five arrows later, the fight was over. Looking down at the bodies, Hawke allowed Fenris to collect their coin purses stating, "Hopefully, it doesn't get much worse than this."

He emptied each purse into one, so the coin was all together and tossed it to her.

"With any luck." Aveline agreed.

Sebastian pulled an arrow from his quiver, at the ready for the next encounter and they continued down the stretch of beach. The sun was setting now, the top of the water aflame with orange and red, the cliffs bleeding under the light's hues. In the distance, cicadas could be heard singing their shrill tune, informing the world of oncoming nightfall. A fair distance away from the first ambush, another began, the same events playing out as before with minor differences. The end result remained unchanging, the corpses being relieved of their stolen coin.

Just as the sun was finishing its descent, they came to the end of the beach. At first, it appeared the second group was the last, and they all turned to go. But, that was when the remaining raiders seized the opportunity to attack. Leaping from the overhanging ledges in the cliffs, they dropped straight down on top of Hawke's team, breaking them apart. Clearly more organized and clever than the previous enemies faced, they did have the advantage of surprise and numbers. But, this was not a tiny caravan, or a small compliment of guards on patrol they faced. It would not be so easy.

Fenris threw back his head in a bellowing roar, his lyrium markings igniting into a blue blaze. Almost as though he were unleashing a beast kept inside his soul. His blade became a sharp whirlwind of fury, hacking and lashing at everything around him. Aveline took a more defensive approach, thrusting her shield in the faces of her opponents, only to strike out with deadly force from her weapon afterward. She would not be moved. Sebastian rapidly fired arrow after arrow in a blur, dodging and weaving away from attacks made by those surrounding him.

"Maker help us!" He cried out into the air.

Allora moved without thought, just reacting. Her eyes taking on that edge brought on by the rage she let consume her. A growl rumbled in her throat, her anger being channeled through her chest, down her arm, and straight into her sword. She loosed it on her enemies with brutal force, showing them a berserker in all its glory. Cleaving through them like a butcher's knife through pig fat, she stampeded through them like a bronto on a rampage. Those who were not killed by her charge were left fumbling on the ground.

She stomped through their forces, coming to Sebastian's aid. Flattening those that threatened him, he took the opportunity to run back down the beach a ways to relative safety. No longer impeded, his arrows met more targets, and the tide of battle swiftly turned. The raiders, sensing their inevitable defeat, turned to flee from Hawke's destruction and the arrows raining down upon them. Fenris blocked their path, tattoos still aglow. The survivors looked to him, then back to Allora who was bracing for another assault straight through them. They decided to take their chances with the warrior elf.

He stormed straight into their midst, proving he was just as lethal as her brute force in his lithe fighting style. His blade whipped through them, taking a life with every swing. Arrows continued to fly, leaving nothing to chance. Between his merciless fury and Sebastian's persistent support, there were none who escaped. It was over.

Everyone took a moment to relax, replacing their weapons upon their backs. This time, it was Aveline who collected the coin, while Fenris attempted to brush off the blood painted sand from the soles of his feet. Their designated sniper made his way back to them at a leisurely pace. All the while, Allora let the madness she summed up in combat to fall and seep away.

She made a rather interesting berserker, as she was naturally quite a friendly and diplomatic person. Not someone you would suspect to harbor such violent rage. Before the destruction of Lothering and the death of her brother, that was the case. But, such harrowing losses tend to change a person. It was never something she struggled to control, though, with her ability to express it on the battlefield it increased her control even further. Granting her inspirational tolerance towards things that would make most lose their temper. Even so, when she found she could use it to her benefit, she took up the opportunity and became very good at it.

Throughout the years, other events had added to her confined pool of ferocious anger, making her stronger and stronger as time passed. Still, the deep mastery she held over herself never wavered. That fact was a comfort. Unless her friends accidentally got into her path when she freed its tenacious force on her foes, they were never in danger from it. Something most warriors akin to her could not claim. Still, her companions did warrant a touch of caution when winding down after a difficult battle. They never bothered her while she calmed herself, instead, they waited for her to address them when she was ready.

"That should be the last of them." she spoke, giving the signal.

"Catch." Aveline told her, tossing the looted coin her way.

Hawke caught it and tied it next to the other coin purses on her belt. Looking to Fenris when he grunted with displeasure at his inability to rid his feet of the red soaked sand. Sebastian shook his head.

"I've never understood why you neglect to wear shoes."

Fenris offered him no answer, just hardened his glare.

Aveline took the chance to take over the conversation.

"The moon is rising," she said looking up, "I have to get back to the barracks now. I have a duty to fulfill."

Allora gave her an understanding nod, "We will head back to Kirkwall and collect the bounty for this job. As always, we will divide up all the coin at the tavern. I'll bring you your share tomorrow."

"I figured as much," the Guard Captain smiled, "Thank you."

With that she took off at a brisk pace down the beach, disappearing into the darkening night. Hawke turned to the two men in her company.

"Shall we?"

Fenris stalked past her, eager to wipe his feet on some grass. Sebastian watched him go, shrugging slightly, then turned to her with a warm smile.

"After you."

Suppressing another chortle for the evening, she returned his smile and followed after 'Broody'. Never letting him out of sight so as not to get separated, her pace was much slower, allowing Sebastian to walk side by side with her. The concentrated look in his powerful blue eyes told her he was in silent prayer, as usual. She briefly wondered again if there was ever a time he wasn't in some sort of prayer. Something she tended to ask herself often when he was around her.

She left him to his righteous endeavors in silence, making sure to close the gap between them and Fenris when his feet finally met the grass he was searching for. He sighed, and she couldn't tell if it was an expression of relief from discomfort, or irritation that it took so long to get it. He allowed her to take the lead, following behind rather than at her side. They all made way for the city gates.


	2. Chapter 2

Allora's contact paid what was promised in full, the exchange quick and efficient. Before long, all three were walking through the door to the Hanged Man. Seating themselves at one of the tables towards the back corner, she pulled from her belt the coin purses collected and the commission paid for the removal of the bandits. Counting it out with care, she split it evenly into four shares and placed each into its own pouch. All the while, Sebastian regaled her with more stories about his grandfather and Starkhaven.

Looking up, she smiled politely as he finished his current recollection, then offered him his payment. He took it gently.

"Thank you, I shall be sure to put this to good use. If you will excuse me, I should return to the Chantry. I hope to enjoy your company again soon, my friend."

"Good evening to you, Sebastian." She replied.

He turned and left them then, Fenris bringing his attention to Hawke as she placed what was owed him into his hand. He stowed it away, slightly grateful to be free of all other companionship but her's.

"Would you like to share a drink with me before we head home?" she invited.

His expression became lighter, his mouth taking on a slight smile as he met her eyes, "That would be nice."

Meanwhile, Sebastian made his way away from the Lowtown pub, but did not make it very far before he came across Varric who was returning to his suite. He stretched out his arms exclaiming, "Choir Boy! Just the man I wanted to see."

"Is there something I can do for you Varric?"

"Well, I just thought you may want to know, there's a rumor sweeping around that some rebellious mages are planning an attempt on the Grand Cleric's life."

Sebastian blinked with surprise, "What?!"

"What I've heard isn't perfectly solid, but it is supposedly going to happen sometime tonight. I went to the Chantry to warn you, but, you weren't there."

Stepping forward with haste, Sebastian gave his gratitude for the information, "I pray it's not too late."

"Good luck to you."

Varric listened as the young Brother broke into a run after passing him, then continued towards home. Entering the Hanged man, his eyes caught sight of Hawke, who he had also been searching for. He had figured she would also take interest in the information he gave Sebastian, as she always got herself caught up in everything happening in Kirkwall. But, he then took notice of Fenris at her side, and the fact they were sharing a drink together.

Thinking on it a moment, he came to the decision not to bother her with it. Elthina was the Grand Cleric, an important religious figure and thus always under guard. She was in little danger. Alerting Sebastian to this plot had not been necessary, it was more of a personal matter. A show of kindness and respect. Something he now believed he was extending to his best friend by not interrupting her date.

She and Fenris had been in a complicated situation with one another for a long time. It had been unclear for a few years now if they were actually in a relationship at all. It was about time they reconciled and found happiness with each other. Varric was not about to ruin that. For a brief second he felt the urge to try and sneak closer, in an attempt to listen in. He wanted to get all the details so he could relay them properly in his stories. But, he did not try it. There was too much risk of getting caught and messing it all up.

Instead, he snuck past them and up the stairs to his room, fortunate that he wasn't seen. No sooner than he had disappeared into his quarters, both finished their drinks and stood up to depart. Hawke tipped the waitress, and they left together heading for their homes in Hightown.

The moon was brightly beaming in the sky, lighting their path in a silvery tone as they stepped up to the bridge. Unlike before, Fenris walked at her side searching for the right words to say. He resolved to just come out with it. Before they drew too close to her estate and they were forced to part.

"I was wondering..." He began.

"Yes?"

"Is it possible you could swing by the mansion to visit me a moment tomorrow?"

Her pale eyes turned to him in curiosity. They were surprisingly soft.

"There may be something with which I would appreciate your aid..."

"I will be sure to see you, then."

Taking on an expression of comfort he replied, "Thank you, Hawke."

He had barely finished speaking when they came across a large group of people at the end of the bridge. Neither of them had to guess their intentions, it was clear they were malicious with all their weapons on display. Both reached for their swords, bracing for the oncoming conflict. Sure enough, the thugs were upon them in seconds.

Fenris moved away from her, trying to give her appropriate room for her to let loose. Without others to back them up, it was the safest course of action. He let his branded patterns flare, managing to tear the heart out of a foe who came too close. In the moment his fist phased into the man, their eyes met. Those empty orbs informed him of who they were dealing with.

"Bloodrager thralls," He called out as the first foe fell "There's a blood mage nearby!"

Not far from him, Hawke's eyes had again reached that frightening sharpness. Her weapon wielded by wrath, hacking down foes as it dictated. Several thralls threw themselves at her simultaneously in an effort to overwhelm her before she could react. As they all came upon her, the rage seethed through her heart, quickening her body. She lashed out with incredible speed, not striking with as much heft as before, but stopping the thralls from touching her none the less.

When all the thralls had fallen, both she and Fenris looked onward to see two mages in the distance. A curtain of blood swelled around them as they prepared, shades and rage demons appearing at their behest. Allora took these on as she ran forward, trying to keep them occupied while Fenris moved ahead to deal with the source. The Bloodragers did not know what they were in for.

All alight, his markings thrummed with energy. They threw spells at him, but most of them kept missing. The magic had a difficult time tracking the target, and what spells did make contact had little to no effect. He was within striking distance, before they realized just how much of a threat he really was. He resisted the blood magic that swirled around him, ignoring it and shattering one of their staves. Cutting the defenseless Maleficarum down with his blade, he turned to the next.

The blood mage drew more power from his fallen ally, encasing himself in a barrier and enhancing the power of the vortex racing around Fenris. Despite his desperate attempt, the elf did not fall. Before long, he tired and the barrier dropped. In that instant, his being was wrought with panic as he watched that glowing hand reach into him. With a jerk and excruciating pain, he drew his last breath.

Looking back, Fenris watched Hawke cut through the last rage demon, its firey form breaking apart and raining the shreds down over her. With a grunt of satisfaction, she put away her sword and came to join him. Bending down to search the bodies of the two he slaughtered, she quickly found a piece of parchment stashed in one's belt near his coin. She wasted no time in reading it while he waited patiently for her to inform him of what it said.

"This goes beyond madness!" She exclaimed in surprise.

Standing, she turned to him, "They are planning an attack on the Chantry, on Elthina herself!"

"What fools," he sneered, "they have no hope of reaching her. When is this attack going to take place?"

"Tonight..."

Raising a brow, he replied "Let me guess, you intend to do something about this."

"At the very least, Sebastian should be warned. I doubt he will refrain from putting himself in danger when it happens."

"Much like you..."

Disregarding his last statement, she hurriedly proceeded to collect the rest of the coin from the deceased Bloodragers. He, saying nothing more, set to work helping her. Within moments they were both jogging off towards the Chantry, slowing only as they approached its steep ascending steps.

Climbing them in silence, they listened for commotion up ahead. Anything that suggested battle was either upon them, or had just taken place. All that could be heard was the ever constant song of the cicadas; the occasional hound baying in the distance of the city streets. This gave Allora hope that the attack had yet to happen and would thus allow her to warn her friend. She kept her focus forward.

Opening the Chantry's door with caution, everything before them was still. Only flickering candle light moved in the Preaching Court. They made way for the pulpit, crossing through the shadows of the Entrance Hall with care. Despite it being a place of holy worship, it was dark and what might be lurking in that black was unknown. Danger could come from anywhere in Kirkwall. Though, with every step, Hawke grew more confident they were relatively safe.

Coming to the end of the hall, where the shadows met the moonlight beaming through the windows, she suddenly halted. Pain burst through her core, sharp and burning. The world appeared vastly different, utterly strange, as that very pain ebbed away. It took with it her awareness, and she fell to the floor on her side. The darkness seemed to intrude into her being, and she was lost. She never heard Fenris call out to her.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hawke!" Fenris's voice rang through the Chantry.

Sebastian's heart stopped, and his arm painfully jerked in a furious attempt to redirect his second shot. The arrow streaked past, leaving only a gash on the right side of the Tevinter elf's neck. Sebastian dropped his bow, his breath coming in hard as he began to move forward. As he dashed towards them, Fenris moved away from the wall he had flattened himself against a second ago trying to avoid more arrows. He moved into the moonlight, drawing his blade and placing himself between their attacker and Allora's fallen form. His tattoos flared at his percieved foe's approached. When he saw that it was Sebastian running at them, his glare only became colder.

"Keep your distance!" he yelled, "Or I will kill you!"

Sebastian froze, his eyes darting behind Fenris to Hawke, his gut twisting at the sight of his arrow's shaft protruding from her chest.

"Is she-" He started but could not continue, his sight blurring and his stomach sick.

Scowling with growing hatred for the Chantry Priest, Fenris cautiously moved over to her side and crouched down, reaching out with his free hand to lay his palm upon her throat. Feeling a weak, throbbing, pulse, he removed her weapon from her back so she could rest easy. Setting it next to her, he then looked Sebastian in the eye.

"She still breathes," relief was evident in his tone, "Lucky for you. I would not have hesitated to make you pay with your life."

Sebastian came to kneel at Hawke's other side, making sure to stay out of Fenris's reach.

"Please, allow me to atone by aiding you in saving her life."

Reluctant to trust Sebastian, Fenris demanded, "Why did you attack us in the first place?"

"I was told Maleficarum were to try to break into the Chantry tonight. That they were coming for Elthina's life. I thought you were them... Please," he pleaded "I promised to protect her. Let me at least do all I can to ensure she survives my terrible mistake."

Fenris stiffly placed his sword in its place on his back, too desperate to keep her alive to turn away Sebastian's aid. Even if he still considered the man a traitor.

"Do not make me regret this." Fenris warned.

"We need to get her to Anders."

Gently wiping away a small stream of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth, Fenris then gathered her into his arms and pulled her up from the floorboards. He gave a curt nod and Sebastian sprinted away to retrieve his bow. Stooping to pick it up, he paused briefly, his mind calling sudden attention to what he was choosing.

If he left to follow Fenris to Darktown, he would be abandoning his promise to protect Elthina. At the same time, if he stayed to protect the Grand Cleric, he was then abandoning Hawke. He was was torn for a moment, unsure of what to do. It did not last long, his indecision. He slung the bow against his back and made haste to catch up with Fenris, snatching up Allora's sword as he passed it.

Elthina had a decent compliment of guards to save her from harm. Other than he and her elven companion, Hawke had no one. It was his fault she was in such danger at all. He realized this was what the Grand Cleric had been warning him about. Taken by his brash whims and his pride, he took matters into his own hands without thinking things through. And it had cost him dearly. A hard lesson to swallow. He knew making up for the damage he had caused was the right thing to do. In his heart he offered earnest prayer to the Maker for forgiveness, guidance, and aid. For both Hawke and Elthina's lives to be protected and spared. That is where his heart stayed.

Fenris was exiting the Chantry, pace brisk, before Sebastian managed to get caught up. They nearly stumbled down the steps in their rush, breaking into a run as they left the last step. They were forced to come to a halt not far from it, however. Bloodragers and their thralls came pouring into the courtyard from the vacant streets, intercepting them. The rumored threat to Elthina's safety, revealed.

"Fenhedis!" Fenris hissed as he stared them down.

"I doubt... They will just let us pass..." Sebastian said in a foreboding tone.

Apart of him felt almost glad that these foes would have to be dealt with before continuing. But, he also felt shame for that feeling. Allora would not last much longer, there was no time to delay. Despite this, he was correct, they were without choice. The thralls brandished their weapons. Neither of them wasted anymore precious moments.

Sebastian let her sword crash to the ground, carefully taking hold of Hawke as Fenris passed her to him. Immediately after, Fenris turned and threw himself into combat. Sebastian fell back, placing her upon the ground and pelting them with arrows from where he crouched. Even as enemies rushed past the swordsman and came at him, he did not waver or move from her side. His urgency was reflected in his struggle, as arrow after arrow whipped forward from his bow in rapid succession. Keeping the thralls at bay.

Fenris, meanwhile, spared nothing in his fight to clear these fiends from their path. He sliced them to pieces, closing in on the mages as quickly as possible. The first of the four met a gruesome end as her lungs were torn apart. She had foolishly wandered too close trying to run him through on the end of her staff. The others instantly resorted to blood magic and attempted to dispatch him at a safer distance. As the second one fell to death, however, the other two became unsure.

Lacking sufficient numbers in thralls by that point and seeing two of their own fall so quicly, they summoned a hoard of shades, demons and abominations. With that done, they turned to flee. Fenris managed to snare one of them as he stumbled in his retreat, making short work of him while the hoard moved closer. He let the last Bloodrager slip away, disappointed she had escaped, but much more concerned about ending this conflict and getting to the clinic.

Cutting through anything that got in his way, he pushed through them towards Sebastian who was frantically working to fend off an abomination and rage demon. Drawing all his strength as he came near, he spun in a complete circle, swiping his blade through most of what remained of the hoard as they swarmed over the three companions. This action ended the suppression of Sebastian's marksmanship. What monstrous creatures were left, did not hold out long against the arrows and sword strokes that came after.

With the last shade's destruction, they were free to continue onward. However, both realized they were not in the clear. They were attempting to travel through the city at night, an unfortunate time to do so. Bandits and thugs were on the prowl during this time and they would target anyone walking the streets. Anymore delays like this one, and Hawke's fate was certain.

Devising a plan, it was Fenris who picked up her blade. Placing it in the hold where he would normally rest his own weapon. Instead, he kept his at the ready. Seeing this, Sebastian lifted Allora from the ground and turned to follow him as he started walking forward.

"If we are attacked again, push onward. I will clear a path for you and catch up when I can." Fenris told him.

Sebastian did not argue. He gave no reply at all, just followed on the warrior's heels as they broke into a run once more. Coming to the bridge within moments, they caught sight of a gang of criminals. They were picking over the bodies of the Bloodragers from before. This provided opportunity as they were not expecting what came next. True to his word, Fenris put on more speed and took them on without hesitation. Breaking an opening through their ranks, Sebastian darted through it. He did not look back, but he continued to silently pray with all his might.


	4. Chapter 4

Anders sat on the dirt floor of his undercity clinic, his back propped up against the flimsy wooden wall across from the doors. This place had once been a pub, but it had fallen to ruin long ago. Now it was a second hand safe haven for anyone seeking help and healing. His staff resting across his lap, he was sleeping. With all of the time he spent aiding Allora, or helping apostates and hiding from Templars, this was usually the only opportunity he had to be here. Of course, he was always tired from such busy days. So he often slept while he waited for patients, always stirring and looking after them the moment they arrived. It was rough, but, to him, worth it.

He started awake when he heard someone stumbling in through the door. Rubbing his eyes and getting to his feet, he expected to find a refugee who had been wandering around the collapsed mining tunnels, scrounging, when some of the rubble shifted resulting in a broken wrist. Or something to that effect. What he saw when his vision cleared nearly made him dizzy. Sebastian stood trying hard to catch his breath with Hawke limp in his arms, barely breathing at all. Behind him, Fenris suddenly appeared, even more out of breath than Sebastian.

"What happened?!" He cried, heart suddenly heavy. He saw the arrow, but could not quite grasp how it was possible.

He took her from them and brought her to the nearest table, setting her down with care. Turning, he rummaged through a nearby crate, pulling from it lyrium potions.

"Choir boy hit her..." Fenris said breathlessly.

Sebastian, who had caught his breath by then, looked down in shame and sorrow.

"It was a mistake. I thought... I thought she was an enemy. I could not see it was her."

Anders had come back to her side, his hand on her forhead. Her skin was cold, her pale complexion ghastly. His voice trembled as he told them her odds.

"She's very weak. I don't know if I can..."

"You had better try." Fenris growled, finally recovered.

Anders shot him a stern look, "Of course I will try..."

Magical energy swelled in his hands, and he released it on her. It was a spell he used in battle when an ally began to falter with fatigue. It was meant to help invigorate her waning strength and steel her for the next step. He could not repair the damage while the arrow remained. Her fate would be determined when he pulled it from her body, though. He felt incredibly unsure of himself and paused to warn the others.

"If... There is anything you wish to say to her, now would be the time. When I remove..." he stopped, "Either she will be strong enought to bear it, or we will lose her."

Sebastian took the chance to speak first, eyes watering with such regret, he could hardly take it.

"I pray you can hear me. Whatever happens, I want you to know I truly am sorry. I would trade places with you if I could. I made you a promise. And, I not only broke it, I defiled it by hurting you myself. I would do anything to earn your forgiveness."

Stepping forward, he reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. He then moved away, allowing Anders to have a few words.

Gently caressing her face, he spoke encouragingly, "Just hold on for a little longer. I will stop the pain and heal you. You'll be alright. You'll be stirring up trouble again in no time," he smiled gently "Albeit, more carefully from now on, I hope."

He loooked to Fenris, who had been shifting from one foot to the other, uneasy. Fenris stared back with a disapproving expression, something Anders might have used to exasperate him with by claiming he was jealous. If not for the current circumstances. Sebastian nudged him foward, prompting him to say something. Fenris looked down at her, his expression shifting to a calm sadness, a look neither man had ever seen him make before. He rested his hand over hers.

"Hawke. You are my closest friend. I'm not sure what I would do without you. Don't you die on us."

He took his hand from hers, but he did not step back. His eyes moved to Anders expectantly. Sighing, Anders proceeded to unbuckle the leather straps to her chest plate, careful not to move it. Pinning it in place, the fingers of his right hand wrapped around the arrow. He took a deep breath closing his eyes for a moment in his own silent prayer.

With a sharp jerk he pulled it up and through the chestplate exactly as it went in, the armor being the only thing that had given her this fighting chance. He was very relieved when he saw the arrowhead still attached to the shaft. She bagan choking on what little breathing she could manage and he quickly pushed the metal plate away. With the arrow gone, blood spilled through the puncture into the dark blue robe she wore beneath. It had a row of buttons leading from her neckline to her waist.

He hurriedly ripped them undone, exposing the fatal injury so he could focus the magic to it. He cupped both hands over it, pushing the magic into her breast as her heart pounded wildly in distress. Before long, her choking ceased. But, soon after, so did her breathing. Feeling her struggling heart as it fought to keep beating, he did not give up. Death was closing in on her and he refused to let it have her.

Removing one hand, Anders popped the cork on a potion and downed it, never minding the blood left on the vial as he dropped it. His tiring energy restored, he placed his hand back in place and put more into his magic than he'd ever before. Against the nearly inevitable, his persistence and dedication paid off. She drew breath and her heart beat became steady. Both were weak, but there.


	5. Chapter 5

With a groan, Allora regained awareness, automatically trying to push herself up and out of bed. She managed it, but grimaced as pain shot through her body. Stiff and sore, she almost let the sudden urge to lay back down take her. Instead, she forced herself to her feet, determined not to waste the day because of a few aches and pains. As she teetered on the edges of her balance, unsteady in her stance, her mind focused on trying to recall how she'd gotten home.

Her memory could bring up the sensation of falling, visions of an altered reality like the world had lost its color, and a sharp, breathtaking, burst of pain. Her hand traced that recollection of agony to its source and she peered down at her chest. The grey tunic she wore for sleeping covered her bosom and she pressed her fingertips gently into her sternum. Feeling nothing there, she let her hand drop to her side. With a thoughtful hum, she stumbled towards her bedroom door, nearly falling over when it opened unexpectedly.

Sebastian and Anders stood staring with the same look of surprise she wore. Straightening herself, she offered them a gentle nod in greeting. Sebastian took a step forward, eyes focused on hers.

"Hawke. You are awake..."

"How do you feel?" Anders cut in.

"A touch sore, but, I am alright. What happened? I remember walking into the Chantry. I was looking for you," she gestured to Sebastian "so I could warn you about an attack."

Dropping his eyes to the floor in a moment of disgrace, Sebastian shifted his weight and proceeded to return his eyes to hers.

"When I left you and Fenris at The Hanged Man that night, I came across Varric during my return to the Chantry. He told me of the attack. I attempted to stop it... When you wandered into the Chantry, I could not see that it was you. I mistook you for an enemy and fired upon you."

Crossing his arms, Anders added, "We almost lost you."

Hawke stared at them, taking a bit to process what she was being told.

Sebastian reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder, "Hawke, I am truly sorry. I would never hurt you intentionally. I will do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, I swear it."

"It is..." she started, "alright. I understand. Just, try to be more careful in the future."

His blue eyes glowed with great relief.

"Your mercy humbles me. I will be sure not to make the same mistake again."

Hawke's eyes widened as she realized Fenris was not with them, but, had been with her in the Chantry.

"Fenris?..." she looked deep into those eyes, worry tightening her throat.

Anders answered, "Other than a little cut to his neck, he was fine. He did plenty complaining as I healed it. His usual disgust of anything concerning magic."

With the relief came a reminder of her promise to check in with him at his mansion, as well as the words Sebastian had used in saying, "that night".

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Two and a half days."

Moving to her secondary wardrobe, she opened it to reveal multiple sets of armor stashed within. Among them was the same armor she had worn previously, the breastplate mended. Bohdan had taken it to a smith and put it in its place after the repair. He was indeed a very reliable manservant, even if she did not require his service.

"Forgive me," she spoke as she carried the pieces stiffly to the bed, "but there are things I must do."

"Try to take it easy. It may take more time for you to fully recover. And, please, be careful. If you need me, I will be in my clinic. Do not hesitate to seek me out if anything seems wrong." With a concerned look, Anders turned to leave.

Sebastian lingered, "Please, allow me to accompany you. I want to be sure you are alright."

Allora did not argue with this, only focused on preparing to leave the estate. Content with her silent compliance, he left her room so she could change. Before long, she was in a fresh blue robe, her armor properly adorned. She was unusually aware of its weight, her body protesting against the effort it took to hold her up while wearing it. Taking up her sword, she found it difficult to lift it into its place upon her back. She hoped she would not need to wield it in combat any time soon.

Finally, she came down the stairs, gesturing for Sebastian to follow as she passed him. He fell in step behind her, both giving a polite smile to Bohdan on their way out as he expressed his happiness at seeing her awake. The humble dwarf returned to his duties as they stepped outside, telling Sandal to hand him something. Hawke did not bother to lock the door.

The sun beamed high overhead yet again, pressing its heat onto the city. However, dark clouds littered the sky, boasting a chance for a thunderstorm that evening. Something Allora hoped would come and soon. She struggled slightly against the combined efforts of the heat and her weariness to keep moving. Losing her balance twice as they walked towards Fenris's broken down home, Sebastian diligently reached out to brace her up both times. As they reached the tattered door, he opened it, expressing his concern.

"Perhaps you should not be out and about just yet. You seem a little unsteady."

She shook her head, "I just need to work the stiffness from my muscles. I haven't moved much in a while."

Expression unchanging, he let her step inside, following promptly after. She led the way into the main hall, smiling slightly at the feeling of cooler air brushing against her skin.

"Fenris," she called, a polite warning of their approach.

He wandered from the master bedroom onto the balcony, greeting them from its overlook.

"Hawke..."

Choosing the flight of stairs to the right, he moved to join them where they stood.

"I trust you have finished healing then."

"Yes, I am fine." she smiled at him.

His eyes parted from hers and turned to Sebastian. Though he had made no open threats since the events in Anders's clincic, his eyes still turned cold whenever Fenris saw him. It was clear he still held contempt for Sebastian, despite the slight progression of friendship between them before all this.

"I see you've brought HIM with you."

She put forth her hand, "What happened was an accident. Everything turned out, we all came out of it alive. There's no need to hold it against him. We all make mistakes."

Fenris suddenly recalled the time he faltered to the lure of a demon. The shame he felt strangling him must be the same as Sebastian's. With a reluctant sigh, he came to accept he was no better than the Priest. His eyes softened and he let it go.

"I've come to offer my aid like I promised. If it's not too late to do so." Her eyes took on a gleam of hope.

Refocusing his gaze back to her, he offered an appreciative smile.

"No, it's not too late. I-"

The sound of his front door being kicked in echoed through the mansion startling everyone. Fenris retreated up the stairs hastily, to retrieve his blade from the bed in the master bedroom. Sebastian readied an arrow to his bow, while Allora weakly pulled her sword from her back. Bloodrager thralls came pouring into the main hall, and she reached for that deeply buried well of anger. Drawing from it, she used its hot vigor to become firm. Feeling her strength return, she lashed out at the two closest thralls.

Some were falling to arrows as they came through the doorway, others to her blade as they drew near to her, but they kept filing in by the dozens none the less. Fenris came dashing back down the stairs, weapon in hand, markings active. He came up behind her, taking on those who moved past her and offering support. Then, Sebastian fell back, perching himself atop the balcony.

Despite their best efforts and the myriad of foes that fell to their weapons, there were too many to stop. Soon, Hawke and Fenris were fighting back to back, surrounded. While Sebastian was left to fend for himself as thralls hustled up the stairs from both sides. Their chances became bleak rather quickly. An outcome no one would have suspected. Bloodragers and their thralls were insane by every definition of the word. But, to lay siege to a home in Hightown during broad daylight was beyond unpredictable.

Sebastian fell backward after sustaining a brutal slash to his midriff. He pressed his arm tight to the wound as he lay gasping, praying to the Maker aloud.

"Andraste, Bride of the Maker, hear the pleas of your humble servant. Guide our souls safely to the Maker's side."

Fenris dropped his blade as a dagger buried itself into his right shoulder. He stumbled, and another blow to his left leg brought him to his knees.

"Forgive us our failings, our sins and cleanse us of our darkness and pains."

Already not at her best, Allora succumbed to fatigue and a sharp blow to the back of her head from a sword hilt.

"Direct his just wrath upon those who would slaughter the innocent and bind the righteous..."


	6. Chapter 6

Wind howled in the distance, warning of the oncoming storm. All at once, the commotion within the mansion's walls had ceased. The thralls gave pause, not enacting the final blows to Allora and her companions, but simply keeping them suppressed to the floor. A bloodmage sauntered into the room, purposely clacking her heels loudly as she stepped. Her dark brown eyes passed Hawke and stuck themselves to her elven friend, face twisting into an expression of mirth when he growled at the sight of her.

"You remember me, do you? How delightful..."

Thoroughly confused and trying to blink back the fog from her eyes, Allora called in question.

"Fenris?"

He didn't look to her, keeping his glare fiercly focused on the Bloodrager.

"After you had fallen, Bloodragers did indeed attack the Chantry. In the battle that followed, two of them attempted to flee," bitterness seeped into his voice "I stopped the other, but this one escaped me."

Pressing her palm to the back of her skull as it throbbed, she murmured "I see..."

"You will not be there to stop us next time, elf. You are going to pay for interfering, with your life. But, do not think it will come quickly. Oh no! Not. At. All."

The blood mage moved closer, stopping in front of Hawke where she knelt. She only glanced at her chosen victim for a brief second before moving her attention back to him. Reaching down, she took the berserker's throat in a tight grip, returning Fenris's glare straight back into his eyes. Taking great pleasure in the hatred pouring from his expression, she sighed with glee.

"She will make a lovely thrall. Your Chantry friend as well. And they will bring you your end."

Allora grabbed her tormentor's wrist, ripping the hand from her neck in defiance. A thrall responded, lashing a fist across her face hard. She dropped to her side, consiousness reeling. Cursing at their enemy in elvish, Fenris tried to get to his feet only to receive the same punishment. There was incredible strength behind the blow, and he was thrown back down to his knees. Hands to the floor, he braced himself up as he fought its sting. The thralls surrounding him each pressed a foot into his back, keeping him from trying again.

"We had best get started."

The thralls on the balcony dragged Sebastian down the stairs, utterly ignoring his weak struggles to fight back. They carelessly dropped him at the Maleficar's feet. Afterward, they proceeded to pin both he and Hawke tightly down. Allora struggled through the increasing haziness in her mind, burrowing deep into herself. She desperately reached for the rage contained within her, fighting to loose her inhibitions and set it free. It responded to her will, breaking out into every fiber of her being.

Despite this, she only managed a short fit of thrashing before her body refused to try any longer. The attempt had been rather pathetic. The thralls barely took notice and had no difficulties keeping their hold. Closing her eyes in disappointment and shame, Allora wished she would slip from awareness. Tired of pushing through the clouded sensation in her head, she really did not want to watch the blood mage take pleasure in her failure as the ritual did its grisly work.

As the Bloodrager sliced into her wrist, preparing to unleash her magic, the first bolt of lightening streaked through the sky outside. It brought with it thunder and rescue in its wake. Led by Captain Aveline, guards came charging into the mansion. They immediately threw themselves into battle against the thralls, Aveline herself clashing with the apostate. Sebastian gave a cry to the joy and overwhelming relief shared by them all.

"Thank the Maker!"

In spite of having numbers on her side, Kirkwall's guardsmen were expertly trained and cut through the mage's forces with fierce precision. The Bloodrager herself hastily lashed gashes across her arms, giving all she had against Aveline. Not only would the Guard Captain not be moved, but, this time, her attacks were more aggressive. Fueled by the drive to protect her friends, she handily pounded the opposition into defeat.

By the next lightening flash and rumble of thunder, it was over. Aveline's men, at worst, boasted a cut or two. Otherwise, they were all unharmed and beamed with pride. They all took up the same stance, at attention and awaiting the Captain's command. All save her husband, guardsman Donnic. He stepped over and offered aid in getting the injured onto their feet.

Reaching Fenris first, he helped the elf, who had already struggled up, steady his balance. Then, Donnic moved to Sebastian, pulling him up from the stone tiles and remaining under his arm to keep him supported. The Chantry Brother deeply thanked the man for such help. Meanwhile, Fenris limped over to Hawke's side, joining Aveline in bracing her up into a sitting position. They held her there as she, once again, attempted to clear her head.

"Are you hurt? Can you stand?" Fenris questioned her.

Despite the fact she had not received the same damage as he and Sebastian, he was still worried and couldn't keep the concern from showing. The memory of watching her nearly die was a plague to his mind that would not relent. It had been haunting his thoughts, even his dreams since the incident had taken place. Never giving him a moment's peace unless he had something else to focus on. It had also bred a sort of paranoia in the back of his mind, causing him to slightly panic inside whenever she took a hit. Whether it was a serious blow or not.

"It doesn't look like you've sustained any real harm," Aveline stated as she hefted Allora to her feet "You should have stayed home and rested a bit longer."

"I'm fine." Hawke replied, trying hard to stand on her own and not sway.

Neither companion looked completely convinced.

"You're lucky I arrived when I did. I wouldn't even be here if I didn't have the information you requested, Fenris."

The elf looked to her expectantly.

"What do you mean?" Allora asked, more confused than ever,

"I'm supposed to be off duty. I had just finished a patrol in Darktown. Donnic convinced me to join him for a relaxing drink at the Hanged Man. But, I decided to relay my information first. When I reached the Hightown Market Square, I saw my guards mobilizing to respond to an emergency and took the initiative. If I hadn't decided to come here first, I wouldn't have been here to help. Im glad I did."

"What information do you have?" Fenris cut in, seeming slightly anxious.

She gave him a stern look, "That can wait for a bit. First, we should get you to a healer. Also, if the Bloodragers have become such a hazard, I need to organize an immediate investigation so we can track them down and put a stop to this threat. I will not have thugs, mages or not, putting people at such risk in my town."

With a sigh, he dropped the conversation.

"I am glad you came. Thank you Aveline." Sebastian remarked sincerely.

"I fear the thought of what would've befallen us if you hadn't. So, yes, thank you." Hawke added.

Fenris gave a curt nod, his thoughts distracted.

"You're quite welcome." She smiled.

Motioning to Donnic, her husband took her signal and sheperded the small group out of the mansion, taking them to Anders. She, meanwhile, turned and addressed her guardsmen. Getting her investigation underway.


	7. Chapter 7

Hawke rubbed her tankard with her fingers as she rested her hand against it, eyes staring into the depths of its contents. She was only half listening as Varric relayed the events of the past four days to Merril and Isabela, embellishments included. Focused, instead, on the thoughts shifting through her mind. Thoughts of concern for Fenris. He had been so very distant from everything since Aveline had told him she had the information he was seeking. Seeming as though he were lost within himself, maintaining utter silence. Not even offering complaint as Anders worked healing magic on his wounds that day. And since, had not been heard from or seen.

Even now, the weekly evening session of Wicked Grace was without his presence. A disconcerting fact as he never missed it. Usually, Allora was not apart of this weekly meeting, not typically interested in gambling or more than a drink or two. On this particular day she had asked to join in, however, intent on reaching out to him. Hoping to speak with him, just to ensure he was alright. Varric had stalled the game, waiting for his arrival, but, she was certain now that he would not be coming. She stood and glanced at the others.

"And that is how it happened, Daisy." Varric boasted in his narrative tone.

"Really?" Merril asked with eyes wide "Hawke withstood all of that?"

"Oh, I'm sure he's exaggerating quite a bit, Kitten," Isabela told her "He tends to do that."

"Rivaini," he replied with mock injury, "Would I ever lie to you?"

"I never said you were lying, just exaggerating..." She scoffed.

With a slight smile at their banter, she departed, leaving both The Hanged Man and Lowtown behind. She strode across the bridge to Hightown, passing home by without even a look in its direction. Climbing the steps leading from the Chantry's courtyard, she turned to the left, coming to a halt at the door to his mansion. The wearing wood was adorned with repairs to the damage done during the breach not long ago. Reaching forward, she opened and pushed it from her path.

Making her way to the main chamber, she went to call out to him her usual greeting when she came to visit. But, voices in the distance stopped her. Instantly, she recognized one. Aveline was offering a long explanation of something. Hawke moved closer, up the steps and to the balcony.

"Are you certain it's her." Fenris's voice suddenly demanded.

She came to stand in the doorway.

"An elf matching your description, on the ship you named." Aveline insisted.

"I need to know if it's a trap!" He growled, slamming his hands to the table.

Restless, even distressed, he shot a expectant glare at her.

"I did what you asked, Fenris. The rest is up to you." Aveline stood, irritation evident in her demeanor.

Turning, she took notice of Allora as she made way to leave with a remark.

"You talk to him, Hawke. I've had my fill for today."

Moving aside to allow her to pass, Allora looked onward towards him.

"Venhedis, fasta vas!" He cursed, pushing himself away from the table.

Stepping closer, she offered assurance.

"Maybe I can help, Fenris."

He looked at her a moment, leaf green eyes bewildered and shadowed by a faint flicker of fragility. Sighing, he informed her of what was happening, pacing agitatedly as he talked.

"It's my sister. I didn't tell you, but I followed up on Hadrainna's information. Everything she said was true. I had to keep it quiet, but I eventually contacted Varania and sent her coin enough for her to come meet me. And now she's here."

He stopped in his tracks and met her eyes straight on. They were dazzled with slight surprise as she held his gaze. In all this time, since Hadriana's death, he had never outwardly shown any interest in the possibility at having a sister. In fact, it had appeared that he had all but completely forgotten she might exist. Hawke had come to believe that he'd genuinely considered her concept a worthless lie. Only to find now that this was not so.

"She was in Qarinus after all?"

"My sister left Magister Ahriman's service and I found her in Minrathous. That made things more difficult. But, according to the men I paid, it's just as Hadrianna said. She's not a slave, she's a tailor, in fact. Getting a letter to her was difficult, and she didn't believe me at first. But, she's finally come..."

His eyes fell to the floor, seeming distant yet again. Hawke followed his thought process, catching on to what was truly disquieting his mind.

"You're worried Danarius knows." She spoke his concerns aloud.

His brow creased, his voice becoming harsh and bitter.

"The more it seems he doesn't know, the more certain I become he does," his eyes flashed from the floor to her, "Come with me, Hawke. I need you there when I meet her."

With a gentle and understanding nod she asked, "Where is she?"

"If we go to The Hanged Man during the day, she'll be there. For the next week at least."

He looked away, his expression outright afraid for the first time in her company. When they, yet again, returned to her, they were begging. Desperate.

"It would mean a lot to me. That's all I ask."

Smiling gently, empathetically, she resisted the urge to reach her hand to him and caress his face in loving reassurance, knowing it would make him uncomfortable. But feeling in her heart a deep pang crying out to let him know that everything was going to be alright. It was no secret that she cared very deeply for him. Enough to let him go without bearing him any grudge when he had walked away. Only sadness for the loss, and regret that it had hurt him so much. If she could've known the outcome, she would have refrained. But, that was the past, and this was the present. Things were as they were. She accepted the facts, and had resigned to do her best regardless.

"Shall we go first thing tomorrow?" She offered in earnest.

"If you would, please." He replied quietly.

"Alright then."

She gave him one last sweet smile before turning to go, reluctant to leave him to himself and all his worries. And his eyes followed her, watching her leave and staring after her long after she was gone. Incredible longing not to be without her presence, which he had found some comfort in as they had spoken, surged through him. If asked, he would hastily say that he wanted to be alone, but in his heart, he did not want that. Not this time.

The night was spent sleepless, imagining tomorrow and how events would shape. Wondering if they would make it through, or if some terrible fate awaited them. Most ideas consisted of possibilities that one of them would end up without the other, permanently. This separation, this withholding of how he really felt for reasons that were still unclear was difficult to bear. He was so tired of keeping up that barrier and making her stand at a distance. Yet, he continued to keep her at bay, just to miss her when she wasn't with him. There had been hope that, with time, this unease would lessen. It had persisted instead, as strong as the day he'd left. What would happen if that separation became more severe?

As it was now, they were apart, but still there for each other. If he needed her, he could count on her aid and he tried to offer her the same. But, if something were to happen, and he was no longer here, what would she do? Would that strong resolve to always keep trying he admired her for fade away? What if it were her who was lost in one of these possibilities? what would become of him if she were truly gone? He recalled the moment when the arrow was pulled from her body and she stopped breathing for a time, and his stomach was sick. If it was difficult to withstand the distance he forced on them now, he could only imagine the agony something so absolute would cause. If they indeed faced Danarius, he knew his former master would not fall easily nor would he neglect to cause as much suffering as he was capable of causing by any means necessary. There was good reason why Fenris feared the man.

Through these past years, he had stayed against the urge to move on; against the urge to flee from those who hunted him. He found himself incapable of understanding what exactly kept him here, but sometimes wondered if it really mattered. Even if he did come to fully understand it, he would still remain, kept here by it. Perhaps he should not question it so much. Perhaps it only meant he had found a place to belong to. Something he repeatedly realized he wanted, yet kept denying. There were times he was a mystery, even to himself... But what if staying had been his greatest mistake? Unlike before, he now had something to lose. And that terrified him.

After many hours spent in darkness and doubt, morning light finally crept through the windows. Slipping across the floor and raising him from his weary thoughts. Preparing for what was ahead, the close future seemed as shadowed from sight and uncertain as Kirkwall roads during nightfall. It did not stop him from pressing forward, and, before long, the time was upon him to discover what awaited them.

He greeted Hawke with clouded eyes when she came through his door, trying hard not to show all the fear twisting beneath his skin. She responded with another reassuring smile, her expression made it clear she knew how worked up he was inside despite his attempts to hide it. With a sigh, he came down the stairs from the balcony and joined her. As he came to stand before her, he froze for a moment. Briefly, he wondered if he should tell her he was scared to lose her. The fear had occupied his mind obsessively for half the night, making him feel as though saying it out loud might bring relief.

His demeanor apparently revealed that he was debating whether or not to speak as she waited in silence, allowing him to take his time. Struggling through his indecision, he soon gave up.

"It's nothing..." he muttered, "I was merely lost in thought for a moment."

The barrier remained, his feelings left unsaid.

"I understand. This can't be easy."

Her voice was calm, soft, so were her eyes. He was impressed by her unfathomable patience that she offered so readily, never seeming to tire of trying to relieve his anxiety. Even after everything that had transpired between them in the past, her kindness towards him never wavered. He was grateful for that. Shifting her weight, she added some information on something she had done for extra measure in case something went wrong.

"I asked Bohdan to deliver a message to Varric and Isabela last night, since they both stay at The Hanged Man. I didn't tell them everything, just enough to let them know that this is important. They will be there in the background, at the ready, in case anything happens."

Not sure of how he felt about getting them involved with something so personal at first, he decided it was better this way. Hawke had said she was discreet with what she told them, he believed her. The added security of having two more friends there and on alert could make all the difference if this was a trap. It definitely improved their chances of escaping if it were. After a short pause as he considered this and came to that conclusion, he met her eyes.

"Thank you, Hawke."

"Shall we?" She asked, stepping aside so that he could take the lead.

He gave her a determined nod and walked on, finding confidence in the sound of her footfalls right behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

(I promised to fix it, didn't I! So I did! I polished it up. It's not 'perfect', but MUCH better. I'll fix chapter nine too. Anyhow, here it is. I hope you find it more suitable.)

Walking into the Lowtown pub, Fenris's eyes were instantly drawn to a red haired elf sitting at a table ahead of them. Behind him, Hawke searched the room and patrons for any signs of a threat. Taking a moment to study this elf, he finally found the courage to approach. Hazy memories and recollections pulled at his mind as he made his way to her, in nearly the same manner as they had during the night shared between he and Allora. He braced himself as his markings began to singe and jolt with sharp pain. Unlike before, however, what incoherent visions of the past that came flooding into his mind remained. Coming to stand before the woman he felt he recognized, she barely gave a glance in his direction before fiercely focusing her eyes on the tabletop.

"It really is you..." She nearly trembled.

"Varania..." yes, he did recognize her now "I... Remember you. We played in our Master's courtyard while Mother worked. You called me..."

It was difficult, but a touch of clarity was washing over some of the confusing images and flashes behind his eyes.

"Leto..." she did tremble as she finished his sentence "That's your name..."

Taken by so many things at once, he was lost from the concerns he'd held just a moment ago, he found her reaction odd rather than suspicious.

"What's wrong? Why are you so-"

"Fenris, we have to get out of here!"

Hawke raised the alarm, shaking him out of his confusion and reminding him of the possibility they were in a trap. And, she had not started without reason. A familiar laugh grated on his ears, heating his blood with hatred and fear.

"My little Fenris. Predictable as always."

He turned, feeling terror begin to seize his body as he caught sight of his Master wandering down the stairs towards them. Step by step, Danarius's expression only grew more smug, fueling yet more despise. All the abuse given since the ritual inflicted upon Fenris blinded his thoughts with all of the torment and helplessness to defend against it. His insides twisted, his muscles straining so tight he was swiftly driven into an inner frenzy that threatened to give him a heart attack. Within seconds, all fears turned only to rage, and he stared his sister down with vehemence for her betrayal.

"You lead him here!"

His only known family, carelessly surrendering him to his worst enemy. But, how could he have hoped for anything more? As far as he was concerned, he was forever cursed, fated to misery for the rest of his life.

"Now, now Fenris," the Magister mused, knowing full well the elf could not stand to hear his name uttered on the breath of his Master "Don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should."

"I didn't ask for these markings Danarius, but I won't let you kill me to get them!"

In his outrage Fenris wasn't quite sure what it was he was yelling, mind dulled by his anger. But, Fenris would convey his defiance by whatever means possible until the very end. He would not be torn down from all that he has worked so hard to achieve without fighting it on all fronts.

Laughter echoed his statement "How little you know my pet..."

Danarius's soulless eyes glanced past him, devouring the image of Hawke who stood at his shoulder.

"So this is your new Mistress then, the Champion of Kirkwall? Quite lovely."

Fenris stills as he recalls she is there, he had forgotten for a moment that she stood just behind him. A shiver runs down his spine, prompted by the hidden threat within the Magister's tone. He had lost sight of his worry for her safety which returned now that his enemy had taken direct notice of her. Danarius knew, he was certain of it. He knew Xeress was important to Fenris, and intended to use her against him. Directly assuming the worst, Fenris could only imagine the possible consequences they faced for coming here. It was a foolish idea, especially for not rousing the others to his plight and bringing more companions to ensure success.

"Fenris doesn't belong to anyone!" Hawke spat in reply, livid emotions swelling beneath her skin in preparation for the coming battle they all knew awaited them.

Fenris wished he had one more chance to apologize to her outright for all of his regrets before this mess began. He had always been able to see the turbulent wreck he had become. So incapable, so indecisive of everything. He was too easily caved under pressure, offering cowardly responses to everything he would rather not face. As long as he proceeded to give up so easily, nothing would ever change. This war between himself, her, and his past would never end. This time, he forced his will to fight, even if he felt he was unlikely to win. Despite his emotional turmoil as it were, the alternative of surrender was far worse. He would fight, not because he believed, but because he did not have the option to just run away. Fenris had far too much to lose. He let his hatred overpower and consume him, letting it brace him up and fortify his resolve to face this. Insecurities, regret, even fear, all faded away, drowned by his unforgiving spite.

More laughter "Do I detect a note of jealousy? The lad is rather skilled, isn't he?"

It was best not to draw this out. Whatever was coming, at the very least, Hawke would be at his side throughout the whole of it. He took some comfort in knowing this.

"Shut up, Danarius!" Fenris barked out, poised for an assault.

"The word is 'Master'."

Danarius took up the aggressive invitation, and chaos ensued. Arrows took to the air, fired by Varric, who revealed his presence at a table some distance away. Isabela appeared from seemingly nowhere, daggers in full swing. Allora became an intimidating force of destruction, crashing through slavers, tables, and shades alike. The patrons had fled, so nothing stood in their way of killing one another. Fenris was not aware of any of this, his focus narrowly concentrated on Danarius alone. He wanted to kill the man with such desparation, he could see nothing else. Not his companions who shadowed and protected him, not the opponents stepping up to kill him, not even himself as he moved. Single minded, he begged the Maker for one thing. That, if this was to be the end, Danarius would share it with them.

Slave and Master fought each other with such violence as to rival Hawke's berserking. Fenris's blade moved in a hazy whilrwind, never pausing, even when changing direction to take up the next swing. Blood fogged the air, thickening as time passed and slavers fell, giving the mage yet more power. Both fought for their lives and desire to destroy the other. Time was lost to them, none cared how long this battle would wage, so long as their opponent fell. And each knew what the other was capable of, neither overpowering their foe. Not for some time, until a rage demon came crashing into Fenris, throwing off the elf's balance.

Caught in a torrent of slavers attempting to hold her down and bring her death, Allora was unable to reach him as the demon was summoned. Isabela was in a tangle with two other rogues, lashing one blade at them while deflecting with the other. And poor Varric was surrounded by a multitude of shades, momentarily confined in place. The Magister took up this opportunity to injure Fenris rather badly with a plunge to his side, using the blade at the end of his staff. Moving then to incapacitate, if not kill, the defenseless elf.

Breaking free of her engagements, Isabela came to his rescue, defusing Danarius's attack just before it reached its mark. Breaking away to avoid another spell, cast at her, while Xeress threw off those who tried to bind her. Allora charged head on through their ranks straight to the Magister, bolstering his protection. Unlike Fenris, she did not know what to expect of Danarius, but neither did his Master of her. Sustaining only mild injuries as he fired spells upon her, every strike she took only provided more fury, which gave more heft. Danarius began losing ground.

Fenris watched as she fought for him, ferocity overbearing the Magister. He pushed himself to his feet to provide support, should she need it, grateful for intervention. Danarius took notice of his recovery as he rose from the floor and, feeling the odds hastily turning against him, took the initiative of offense. Tossing the Champion aside with concentrated force magic, he swiftly dashed a spell at Fenris, presented in a cloud of blood. Weakened by wounds, he fell to its effects as it blasted over his face, blinding him. Frantically, Fenris rubbed at his eyes, trying hard to clear his vision. After a brief struggle, he let his hands fall away from his face, reopening his burning eyelids. Finally able to see, he wished he could not.

His eyes cleared in time to see Hawke fall to death, joining Isabela and Varric in eternal silence and his blood ran so cold he froze. Varric laid propped against the wall, heart ripped from his bare chest, Isabela lay at his feet, head missing from her shoulders. And Hawke... She had fallen to Danarius just as he had feared she could, impaled through the eye on his Master's staff. He could not breathe, suffocated by utter remorse mixed with terror. It was over, so suddenly, they were all gone, killed in horrific ways. The pain in his lungs eventually forced him to inhale, only to exude a wail of deep, uninhibited, anguish. Danarius took notice of Fenris's misery and came for him and Fenris was, once again, powerless to respond, just as before. Falling to his knees, he screamed for Allora, for Isabela, for Varric... Cried out for their souls, only to be taken by choking as though he were drowning, he lost himself to panic...


	9. Chapter 9

(All fixed!)

"Broody! Snap out of it, Broody!" He heard Varric call to him as he gagged down the substance pouring into him, desperate to clear the way for breathing.

All at once his eyes were in terrible pain and everything blurred before him. He pressed them tightly closed, lost, confused, suffocating.

"Varric?!" He gasped between heaves.

"Just keep drinking the healing potions! Here, this is another one!" The dwarf's voice instructed him.

Soothed slightly by the sound, Fenris did not struggle against the next bout of liquid to glide down the back of his throat. Hurt fading slowly away, he carefully opened his eyes when they ceased to throb, not at all eager to see the corpses again. But, they were no longer there. His eyes blessedly free from the illusion forced upon him, he looked about to decipher reality. Isabela was keeping demons and shades at bay while Varric, who stood beside him, administered to his injuries with potions. Quickly, he searched for Hawke, catching sight of her ahead. She was at a stand still with Danarius and several supporting demons, outnumbered, but still fighting strong. Tears escaped his eyes, partly from the damage recently healed, yet mostly from relief.

"You'd better hurry elf! I think Hawke could use a hand." Varric refocused him to the task before them.

With new-found pleasure, he leapt to his feet and lunged at Danarius. Side by side with Xeress, they overthrew the balance, defending each other from the onslaught of dark magic and heathens. Before long, the Magister fell, unable to keep up against their mighty swords and vicious wrath. Energy waning, Danarius took a deep gash to his waist from the edge of his rebelling slave's blade. Allora departed to help Isabela finish off the last remaining shades, leaving Fenris to decide his Master's fate. Victory, though he had nearly thought it impossible. None of that mattered now. Fenris glared down the man who had tortured him his whole life long with terrible glee. Sprawled out pathetically upon the floor, Danarius turned his eyes upward to see his former victim loom over him. His expression terrified, wonderfully on the receiving end of the torment, Fenris reveled in the taste of vengeance. In the creation of a moment made completely fair that made the two of them equal.

Truly, revenge was good to the senses, as sweet as Hawke's feather light touches that were clear in his memory still. As beautiful to him as the sterling eyes of his former lover. As invaluable as any treasure received for their efforts. As addictive as lyrium to the Templars.

Thrilled to say the words, he sneered, "You are no longer my Master!"

He wanted to cause the Magister more suffering before death, to hear him plead for the mercy he had never offered. However, impatience overwhelmed him, his need to be perfectly free taking presidence over his taste for returning the favor. Grabbing him by his neck bones as he phases through flesh with the lyrium markings inflicted on him by this very man, he lifts Danarius into the air, taking his turn to watch his Master choke. He makes eye contact, delving his furious gaze into the mage's irises so that Danarius can see every feeling Fenris experiences as it comes. He crushes nerves, muscles, and bones, discarding Danarius as life leaves the body. No one steps forward to oppose his actions or reprimand them.

Behind him, Varania slinks out of hiding, seeking a chance to flee. Hearing her attempt at retreat, he stops her with a threatening glare as he turns. Everyone is watching as he approaches her.

"I had no choice Leto." She pleads with Fenris as she backs against the wall.

"Stop calling me that!"

She flinches, "He was going to make me his apprentice, I would have been a Magister."

This he could not take, it drove him to his limits.

"You sold out your own brother to become a Magister!"

"You have no idea what we went through, what I've had to do since mother died. This was my only chance!"

An empty excuse for power.

He grimaces at her, "Now you have no chance at all."

He reaches for her, tattoos menacing in their glow, and she begs him not to kill her, begs the others to make him stop. Against his desire, Hawke steps forth calling for him to stay his hand. And, when he demands a reason, she reminds him that, she too, was once a slave. A victim, much like him. He considers it only a moment, the disgust for his sister remains yet he accepts Hawke's will, letting Varania go.

In her spite at his lack of understanding, she turns to inflict one last scar on his battered spirit before disappearing, never to see him again.

"You said you didn't ask for this, but that's not true," her voice is angry, cold "You wanted it, competed for it. When you won, you used the boon to have mother and I freed."

The words poisoned him with fierce regret as he felt their truth. He sought out this agony? He wanted to have his memories stripped from him, to suffer such pain?...

"Why are you telling me this?!"

His tone nearly begged her to take back her words, to tell him it was a lie, though he knew it wasn't.

"Freedom was no boon," her eyes are as bitter as his "I look on you now and I think you received the better end of the bargain."

She turns without another word, leaving him to remorse caused by her revelation. He ponders her words for some time before confronting the others about this terrible knowledge. Astonished, he can scarce believe he had consigned himself to such a thing for someone who would so eagerly betray him. And, he feels alone, everything that was and could have been is now gone. He is without a past worth reclaiming, without loved ones who would miss him. He nearly weeps.

"I'm here Fenris." Allora comes close, helping to steady him.

A light in his darkness, Xeress is not the only one. Varric and Isabela both stand with her, stand with him. All three remained by him and had rescued him from a nightmare that had plagued him for far too long. Carressing her radiant face, he looks into her eyes, looks within her to find the peace he wishes for. He smiles back so sadly, but feeling his strength return. In that moment the love he feels for her is more powerful than ever before. The sensation does not fade from him as he turns away again, his feelings for her no longer obstructed by fears and tragic possibilities. Still, he is overwhelmed by the events just past, and he expresses this in complaint and asks to leave. This time he stays with his companions rather than storming off on his own.

The rest of the day is a mere haze, not memorable in the least to his tired mind. Although he sleeps soundly through the night, he wakes with lingering exhaustion. He wonders what is left for him now that he does not need to run, now that there is no one left to chase him. He has spent so long living this way, he knows no other way. No other purpose. He comes to realize it is the real reason he cannot find peace.

Isabela finds him obsessing over this with concern when she suddenly appears during one of her usual unannounced visits. She baffles him with her incoherent stories, flirts him into a stupor, and eventually talks about how he can go wherever he pleases now. Suggesting he joins her as a raider, her eyes are dreamy with the future she imagines for them. This irritates him, although it is an option and something to do with himself. He does not want to be a sailor, though he is now aware that he does want something in particular, but he cannot place what that is. It throws off his patience.

Gruffly, he disregards her offer, upsetting her into tizzy of hurt feelings. She scoffs at his attitude and walks out, passing Xeress who has come to check on his status. With a touch of regret for his temper, he looks to Hawke as though she can provide the answer he seeks. She sits across from him and patiently awaits him to speak his mind, and his frustration continues to seep from failed expectations. Although, he realizes it is unfair to expect others can tell him what it is he is longing for. An ache that cannot be soothed and so he cannot contain his discomfort. But, Hawke takes his mood in stride as usual. letting him vent the pressure mounting beneath his skin. He is free of proper restraint, free to voice his complaints to her without fear of reprisal.

He claims Isabela doesn't understand, that he knows he is now truly free, but still uncertain of how to live as a free man does. He admits that he feels there is nothing left, nothing to keep him moving forward now that he has lost his sister, the one person he thought would give him something to aspire for. He admits to everything he cannot bear to tell anyone, his confidence in her nearly absolute now. True to her character Allora offers yet more comfort and calmness.

"Maybe, that just means there is nothing holding you back."

She presents a different way of viewing it. A concept that it does not mean he is without options, but that he now has unlimited potential. He muses over this idea, taking it into account. He apologizes for his bitterness, but will not let the idea stand that it is not without reason. Admitting to himself as much as her that he was nervous about such an uncertain future, but takes comfort in her words. And, finally, he looks upon her, studies her. The edge of his gaze catching on hers, he asks her what lays ahead. She merely expresses hope that, whatever happens, they will remain close. It hits him then.

What he wants is right before him. He wants to belong somewhere, to be needed. Not for what he is but who he is. He has come to need the security brought by companionship, the support against his many afflictions. What he wants is his lover. In this discovery, he is brought a moment of clarity. Only for his nerves to take it away. It has been a long time, their separation was old news. Three years had come and gone without much to keep the possibility of being together again alive. If she has moved on, reopening old wounds would be uncalled for. He chides himself for causing such problems in the first place, regretting very much his decision to abandon what they had. But, what is done, is done.

And, with sadness he tries to let her go, only saying the words, "That is my hope as well."

She lingers for a while longer, pleased to see he is holding together. He does his best to smile at what she says, to put on an air of joy for her. He, again watches after her as she leaves as before. Longingly wishing she would come straight back and he yearns to try for her anyway. But, what good would that do?

He stares into the fireplace long into the night, obsessively recalling one long since past. Wishing for time to reverse so that he can have it once more. He continues to argue that he no longer deserves her for all the time he kept them waiting. But, he cannot convince himself of this idea. Then he decides that this dilemma is ridiculous. Scoffing at himself aloud at last, he mires in his recognition of old habits. He is still indecisive, uncertain. And he is still trying to run away, to avoid what he is unsure of, this time seeking refuge from possible rejection. Fenris supposes it will take time to change his old ways.

'A journey always begins with a single step.'

He recalls an old Tevinter proverb, and smiles to himself. She is what he wants and he should fight for her if he truly cares. He puts on his bravest composure, and leaves. Stowing away into the darkened city streets, heading for somewhere warm and familiar.

Bodhan opens the door, unsurprised to find him knocking at this hour. Hawke's companions came and went as they pleased at all hours of the day and night. Fenris insists this is important, urgent, which it is. This cannot wait, should not wait. Neither Bohdan or Sandal offer disapproval to his claims, but simply let him pass to conduct his business, and wander back to their beds. Fenris marches on, past the many doors, and up the stairs to her bed chamber. The door is open, in fact, never has it been closed since she has taken residence here. Just as her front door has never been locked, a danger in and of itself, but also a testament. Xeress does not turn anyone away. He crosses the threshold to her room, eyes searching for her. She is there, pale hair and skin reflecting the cheery hues of the fire as she sleeps, curled up gently on her side.

His touch stirs her from her slumber and nudges her into awareness. As she rises from the pillows, he tentatively wraps her in a tight embrace. She is lost in utter confusion as he binds her up in his arms, but does not pull away.

"Fenris? Did something happen?" She mumbles blinking the sleep from her eyes, and evidently slightly vexed to be woken.

A pang of sorrow for disturbing her from rest crosses his mind, but, this is worth the effort.

"No, I am here for personal reasons." He speaks softly at her ear.

Summoning her patience back into place, she made effort to be understanding as always, "What is it?"

It was this very unending effort she extended to those in need that made her worth so much to him, made her perfect regardless of any 'flaws'.

"Our conversation was unfinished, I neglected to speak my mind." He confessed.

He is answered by silence as she awaits his explanation.

"We have never discussed what happened between us all those years ago."

He begins with trembling breath, feeling his confidence diminish.

"You never wanted to speak about it." She mentions thoughtfully, but is not upset.

"I do now," he countered "That... Night..."

She waits, stilled in his grip, as he struggles to find the words. As he struggles to press on despite his fear she will turn him away.

"I remember your every touch as if it were yesterday... I know, I should've asked your forgiveness long ago, I... If you can forgive me now..." he tells her as she should have no need to ask "When confronted by the pain... The memories... I was a coward..."

She tries to offer a reply, to say something, but finds herself speechless. Unsure of how to respond to his plea. Even still, after all of this time, she does not feel vengeful or unforgiving of his reaction to their tryst. Sad, perhaps hurt, surely so, but not antagonized. she revisited her emotions felt at the time. Regret, guilt that she had lost control, that it had caused someone she loved pain, and distraught that she had struggled to tame her passion for him. Allora took pride in her strong self control, something she failed to maintain during that night of which he spoke. She would appreciate nothing more than to repair the damage between them.

"If I could go back... I would stay and tell you how I felt."

He tells her in earnest.

She lets her curiosity provide response, anything to keep this progressing.

"What would you have said?"

"Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you..."

She holds her breath a moment, a blush warming her face, "I understand. I've always understood. Do not worry, Fenris. As far as I am concerned, everything is made right between us."

She gives pause, inhaling a shaken breath herself.

"I hope you can forgive me for letting my desires get the better of me. The ordeal clearly caused you misery."

"I've... Never held that against you." He mumbles, pressing yet tighter against her.

She smiles, her lips caressing ever so softly to unmarked skin at his jaw.

He reciprocates the gesture to her neck, feeling her skin warm again with another blush. He smirks and proceeds to give her more, never loosening his hold on her until her breathing is filled with sighs of contentment, and she is preoccupied with returning his tokens of affection... Morning's glory finds them happily asleep together, hands entwined.


End file.
